


Measure For Measure

by princesskay



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Episode: s05e26 Equinox, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Masochism, Multiple Orgasms, Punishment, Self-Hatred, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 23:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10774296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: Following the events of Equinox, Kathryn feels the weight of her choices as captain more keenly than ever. In a search for atonement, she goes to Chakotay with an unusual request.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _"O, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side!"_  
> 
> 
> -Shakespeare, "Measure For Measure, Scene III, Act II"

Kathryn took the familiar corridors to his quarters, her gaze set with stalwart commitment. She held her shoulders taut against the burden that weighed with creeping awareness on her bones. Her actions and decisions replayed with chilling clarity in her mind, each one striking harder against her conscious with every step away from chaotic rage that had fueled her resolve. She was blinking awake and back to reality, or rather back to a captain’s frame of mind. 

As she drew closer to her destination, her heart fluttered and sweat cooled in her palms. She knew where she was going, what she wanted, what she longed and hoped for, but the sense of shame clinging to her mind wouldn’t leave until she had it. And she couldn’t shake her fear despite her commitment. 

In the quiet of the corridor, she paused outside his door to draw in a trembling breath. Curling her her hands into fists, she lifted her chin a notch against the tremor working it’s way down her spine. 

She punched the doorbell with her thumb, and waited. As the seconds of silence stretched on, she glanced up and down the hall to make certain no one saw her go in. 

She was alone - as alone as she could be with the demons gnawing at her heels. 

The door hissed open, inviting her into the quiet darkness of his quarters. The only lightsource shone above the couch, where he reclined with a book open on his lap. Shadows clung to the sharp planes of his face, casting him like a philosopher in repose in an ancient painting. Such power in those resting hands, such passion behind tranquil eyes. His mouth was as easy to frown as it was to smile, but she’d seen so much of the first in the past few days it was difficult to imagine the latter now. 

His eyes crept up from the pages, tracking their way to her face with purposeful leisure. 

“Can we talk?” She asked, her voice emitting in a strangled whisper. 

He gave a brief nod. 

Kathryn took a few steps forward, her hands wringing together at her waist. 

“I’m sure you already know … the  _ Equinox  _ was destroyed.”

“Harry filled me in.” 

She nodded, relieved she didn’t have to explain exactly what had transpired on the bridge while he was confined to quarters. 

“You got what you wanted.” Chakotay said. 

He set his book aside, and leaned forward to level her with a cool gaze. 

“Not exactly what I wanted.” She whispered. 

“How’s that?”

“Ransom sacrificed himself.” She said, “He was sorry for what he’d done.”

“And you?” 

Kathryn’s gaze dropped, instinctively shielding herself from the weight of that intuitive gaze. His eyes could strip her down to nothing, and she felt the searing power of them now more than ever before. 

“I’m …  _ aware _ that I may have gone too far.” 

He nodded, his tongue curling thoughtfully over his lower lip. He rose from the couch, and crossed the room to where she stood. She could hardly look up as he reached her side. 

“You could have reinstated me from the ready room.” He said. 

“I know. But I felt I owed you a personal acknowledgement.” She said, forcing her chin up to meet his gaze, “A conversation as equals.”

“I appreciate it.” 

Kathryn swallowed back the dread rising in her throat, and stiffened her shoulders around her decision. Her heart hammered dully in her chest like the distant roar of a waterfall. Her body flashed hot as Chakotay took a step closer, his eyes narrowing at the tremor rippling through her. 

“I  _ did  _ come here to reinstate you.” She said, “But before I do, I think there’s something else that needs to be done.” 

A frown flickered across his brow. 

“And what is it that needs to be done that I can’t do as first officer?” He asked. 

“Well, for one, if I reinstate you right now, I’ll have to put you in the brig an hour from now.” She said, taking a measured step closer to him. 

His head tilted in a query, but color flared at his collar as she reached out to touch his chest. 

“For what?” He asked. 

“Striking a superior officer.”

Silence stretched between them as the connotation settled and evolved. She watched the thought take root in his mind and grow foliage, the first sprigs of desire evident in the low, shaky inhale and the flutter of his eyelashes. 

“There’s no law out here.” Kathryn said, rushing for an explanation that didn’t sound self-serving and lewd. “No law except mine, and who do I answer to when I mess up?”

“I’m not sure exactly what you’re implying.” He said, “But as first officer, I’m subordinate to you. I don’t have the authority to penalize you for your choices.” 

“You know very well what I’m implying.” Kathryn countered, her jaw clenching in mounting impatience, “And right now, you’re not my first officer. You’re my friend, my-”

Her resolute statement broke off as the correct term escaped her. 

His eyes narrowed with the unspoken question.  _ My what?  _

“I feel like …” Kathryn pressed her on, her voice dwindling to a scraped whisper, “... Like I can’t breathe with this weight of …”

“Guilt?” 

Kathryn pursed her lips, and nodded. 

“We all make mistakes.”

“I’m the captain of this ship, I don’t have the luxury of mistakes.” 

“But you have the luxury of punishing yourself for them.”

“That’s just it. I don’t want to punish myself anymore; I’m tired of it. I want you to-”

She stumbled over the request once more, feeling heat flood her throat and face. She couldn’t imagine being on the other side of this conversation, but she couldn’t bring herself to care how bizarre it might seem to Chakotay. 

“You came here for …” His mouth formed the beginning of several words before settling on a stammered, “... for me to punish you?” 

“What I did was wrong. Just because I’m captain doesn’t mean I should be able to walk away unscathed.” Kathryn said, “You certainly didn’t, and you did nothing wrong.” 

“What are you asking me to do?” 

Kathryn pursed her lips at the twisted note of curiosity in his voice. 

He was respectful, and chivalrous, and dutiful to chain of command. He held up most of the standards that she did, some of them perhaps more. But underneath the Starfleet uniform, he was still Maquis, still a warrior. There was still danger and darkness in his veins, the same pathways that threaded through her own body. 

“Are you going to make me spell it out?” She asked, her voice structured with impatience.

He ducked his head and poised his hands on his hips. His chest rose with a sharp inhale. She could see him weighing the costs of this moment, his role as first officer against his natural instincts as a man. 

“All right.” He said, at length, “So what if I agree?”

“We wash our hands of the entire  _ Equinox  _ business and I reinstate you.” 

“I mean between reinstatement and what what you’re asking of me. Do I kiss you? Hold you?”

His questions struck her hard, like a slap in the face. Maybe she’d expected him to go along with this deluded idea of reparation too easily, banking on those heated looks of desire she’d been catching for years now.

“If you want.” She blurted, hardly considering the retort. 

“You’re doing this release yourself from guilt, but what’s to say you’ll feel better when it’s over?”

“I say it will.” She said, sharply, “I know myself, I know what I need.”

He raised a dubious brow, but didn’t argue. 

They stood toe-to-toe another moment longer before she turned away from him, and paced to the table at the opposite side of the room. Unzipping her jacket, she shrugged out of it, and threw it over the back of one of the chairs. 

His gaze burned into the back of her head as she moved down to the zipper of her trousers. Her fingers trembled around the small lip of the zipper, bringing it down hard to reinforce her confidence. She was moving blindly, fueled by her guilt and shame, searching for a reprieve.

The moment this solution had entered her mind, she hadn’t been able to shake it loose. Somehow, it seemed more logical than all the others, despite all her textbook psychological attempts to shear the burden from her shoulders. 

“I know this is a strange request.” She said, her voice shaking, “After this is done, I’ll grant any that you might have. It’s the least I can do for-”

Her negotiating broke off into a gasp when Chakotay’s hands landed firmly on her hips. His approaching steps had been silent. 

“I’m not asking for anything.” He murmured. 

The low, husky quality of his voice raked down her spine, spilling a shiver down her arms and legs. 

She let go of the trousers as his hands took control, gathering the fabric away from her hips and dragging it slowly over her backside. His chest was steady and strong against her back, his breath hot against her ear. Every exhale rattled against the shell of her ear and into her brain, flipping every switch of desire that had lain dormant for so long. 

She bit back a whimper as her pants crumpled from her thighs to her ankles, leaving her trembling in her undershirt and panties. The pips at her neck were last symbol of status, quickly ignored by the burning path of his hands. Brazenly, his palms slid over the protuberance of her hipbones, dragging her taut against him. 

“You want to be punished …” His voice rasped in her ear, tearing open pockets of pounding need through her body, “... How badly do you want this to hurt?” 

The shock and desire building in the back of her mind rose to a dull roar. The sound of her heartbeat was deafening in her ears, the pulse of exhilaration and need suffocating her chest. She could feel the heat of shame on her cheeks like fire, matched only by the swelling throb between her legs. 

“I …” She began, her voice a strangled whimper. 

He waited. Patient. His body and breath clinging to her back like a growing storm. 

“I want-” She began again, only to be choked off by the blinding humiliation of the situation she’d willingly walked into. 

“I need to hear you say it.” He whispered, his fingers squeezing hard around her hips. 

Kathryn swallowed convulsively, searching for just enough strength to speak. She closed her eyes, and found the determination she had walked to his door with. 

“Don’t hold back.” She whispered. 

There was no hesitation in his response. One hand darted from her hip to the back of her neck, pushing her over the table.  She went down with a gasp, her hands grasping for purchase over the smooth surface. His fingers curled around her nape, holding her captive while his other hand clenched into a fist around the back of her panties. 

The fabric surrendered to the drag of his fist, stitching stretching and snapping under the pressure until the garment at last fell to her ankles. Cool air rushed to greet her naked skin, stroking a severe reminder of vulnerability into her every fiber. 

She trembled, her chest galloping and shuddering with the sudden loss of control. 

She’d come here with intent. Asked for this - no begged for it. But now that she was bent over the table and helpless, she felt like a damaged vessel in a tailspin. 

The brush of his fingers came slow and feathery against her naked skin, dragging her back from the edge in an instant. His thumb grazed the curve of her backside, tracing out the area he was about to damage. The burning line he left behind sank into her skin and bones, and stole her breath away. 

Kathryn clutched at the cool, smooth surface of the table, breathing in hiccupped gasps of anticipation. Every inch of her skin pounded with the drumming pulse of her heartbeat, shaking apart her foundations, leaving her breathless. 

She pursed her lips, trying in vain to silence her thready gasps and whimpers. She strained to see over her shoulder, and barely made out the image of Chakotay leaning over her, his gaze focused on her exposed skin. His tongue formed a slick line across his upper lip, methodical appreciation of her need, her submission to him. 

“Please …” She whispered, tears of frustration and guilt pricking at her eyes. 

His palm settled over her skin, drawing a low cry from the back of her throat. His hand was broad and strong and warm, more than covering one cheek. 

“Do it.” She pressed, squeezing her eyes shut against the sting of tears. 

His hand slid away, leaving her skin burning where he’d touched her. She stiffened in anticipation, her body lurching and drumming against the table. His hand was firm at the back of her neck, holding her down with ease. She could only wiggle and moan while he let the silence stretch on. 

She slammed her fist against the table, shattering the humming quiet. 

She felt him jump, only to reassert his grip on her nape. 

“Goddamnit, Chakotay.” She whispered, her voice ragged and hollow, “Just do it. I know you want to.”

The words had barely departed her mouth when his palm down came, cracking against her naked skin with unbridled power. 

The strike blazed across her skin and into her body, tearing a gasp from the back of her throat. She jarred against the table, her eyes springing wide open in shock. Her body hummed with the undercurrent of pain, and the hot flush of shame that encroached on her throat and face. 

She blinked, gulping back a moan. Whatever she had been planning so say next was lost in the lightning strike of pain and pleasure that his hand rendered. 

She was still reeling when the next one came, doling out a sharp fissure of stinging pain through her skin and deep into her core. The sound of his hand connecting echoed through her ears, replaying half a dozen times at her betraying body’s own whim. The throbbing that had started as a low pulse between her legs swelled to a burning roar that tore at her belly with urgent claws. 

Kathryn strained against the table as the third decisive blow came hard across her backside. Her eyes slammed shut, fighting off the urge cry out. The pain was not more than she could take - not yet - but the cowering and ashamed woman inside her found some refuge in the verbal excision of her guilt. The commander did not. The commander told her to shut her mouth, take it like a soldier. 

She was torn between the two when the next stinging blows came in quick succession. 

Four. Five. Six. Each one vibrating through her body and impacting in her belly. She recoiled against the table each time his palm met her skin, lurching to find some reprieve even as her mind openly accepted the pain lacing through her veins. Her skin stung, the echoes and ripples of impact absorbing into her backside and twining through the rest of her body. 

His fingers adjusted around her nape, keeping her dangling just over the edge of the table. In the tiny interim, Kathryn gulped back the press of pained moans, and blinked against the sharp burn coalescing across her ass. The bits of composure scraped together shattered apart in an instant when he resumed the punishment. 

His palm cracked across her naked skin, expelling a high-pitched whine from her chest. She blinked, trying to recover. Accidentally biting down her lower lip when the next blow came. She tasted a hint of blood, but she could hardly take note of the pain in her lip with his hand falling repeatedly over her ass. 

Her skin was a soft and delicate canvas beneath the blooming patches of red, every inch of white easily punished by the breadth of his calloused palm. She could feel the flush springing from beneath each blow, heat and constant, stinging pain engulfing her proffered backside. 

Some perverted desire scrambled to  count each spanking, but as the blows stretched on past the tenth, her mind was lost to the heave and clench, the rhythmic smack of his palm, the tiny, gasping moments of anticipation between the fall of his hand and the next blow. Every second was whittled away in twisting, moaning satisfaction of the punishment; every second after the next, she was singularly living for the stinging pain his hand wrought on her trembling body. 

And when he finally stopped, she was left gasping and dizzy with the loss. 

She blinked her eyes open, searching for some source of disturbance that had cut her off from the pain. 

Instead, she found him leaning over her, his hands braced on either side of her head, his hips resting heavy against her stinging backside. She could feel him hard and throbbing beneath his uniform, an inescapable testament of his own need. 

“Is that what you wanted?” He whispered, his voice harsh and rugged just behind her ear, “Is that enough?” 

She shook her head, gulping around her tongue thick with desire. 

“No?” He questioned, his fingers tangling in the hair at her nape. 

“No it’s not enough.” She panted, shooting him a sharp gaze from the corner of her eye. 

“How much can you take?” He asked, softer this time, strained with disbelief and the pangs of ugly desires. 

“How much can you give?” She whispered from between clenched teeth. 

“Goddamnit, Kathryn-”

“I’m still your commanding officer.”

“I’m relieved of duty, remember?”

“You’re still wearing Starfleet colors; now do as your captain says, Commander.”

He drew back, leaving her dangling over the edge of the table, half-naked and rosy with punishment. Her stinging skin cooled without the duress of his palm, reinforcing just how much it hurt without the adrenaline to work like an analgesic. She considered letting him have his way, but the voice of guilt was still loud in the back of her mind - screaming louder now than ever before. 

“Chakotay …” She whispered, letting her forehead lapse against the table, “Please. Please, you don’t know how much I need this. It’s tearing me up inside, I-”

His palm settled on her lower back, stemming the plea with a silent reassurance. His other hand grazed over her flushed, stinging skin, shooting prickles of pain and pleasure through her. She sucked in a breath, and urged back against the low pressure of his hand, searching for the fiery power she’d felt only moments ago. He stroked her gently for a moment, as if inspecting the damage he’d done, assessing how much farther he could push her. 

“Yes …” She whispered, her eyes slipping shut. 

His fingers slid away, leaving her throbbing, biting back whimpers of need. 

With a crack, his palm connected, snapping the quiet interlude with devastating force. 

_ One.  _ Her mind took up the count again, her gut twisting with depraved satisfaction. 

Again.  _ Two.  _

His hand branded her with throbbing, burning pain. She could feel her skin turning red and raw, but the heightened pain only urged on her need for this desperate measure. 

_ Three. Four. Five. Six.  _

She could hardly breathe between each. He left no room for thought, no room for indecision. They came swiftly, and if her senses could be trusted, harder than before. 

Her body jolted upon impact, her eyes rolling back. 

_ Seven. Eight. Nine.  _

_ Oh god, here it comes. Please, don’t let him stop.  _

Kathryn braced herself against the table, her chest drumming out a hollow beat of anticipation. Silence followed, the air sizzling between them. 

The tenth came, shattering the quiet and dislodging the wounded cry from the back of her throat. 

Somehow, the journey into double-digits left her pulsating and swimming with some kind of accomplishment. As if the pain wasn’t enough. As if the more she took, the less guilty she would feel. 

But he didn’t stop there. 

And Christ, she didn’t want him to. 

The pain worked through her nerve-endings, inescapable now. She couldn’t contain the whimpers that rushed against the back of her tongue, couldn’t silence the moans that balanced somewhere between pain and bliss. Warmth gushed from between her legs, battling the sting with the throb of arousal.  She wasn’t blind to the needy response her body gave to the pain, but in the moment, it didn’t matter if he knew. She wouldn’t have cared if he could see the wetness dripping from her. 

The next few came in quick succession, smattering over the last bit of untouched flesh. The pace of the blows tapered off until the last one came with jarring finality. 

Silence settled like a blanket over the room. 

The pain and pleasure hissed, and stung, and whimpered out a symphony in the back of her mind. She lay still against the table, her body limp and trembling and burning. A stray tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she gulped back the excess whimpers crowding at the back of her throat. 

She heard a soft sigh escape his lips, and she could sense his look of disbelief scraping out an aching pattern over her raw, throbbing backside. 

His hand settled gently against her lower back, nudging cautiously for a response. 

“Kathryn.” He murmured. 

She peeled her cheek from the cool steel of the table, responding with a bare whimper. 

He gathered her up from the table and into the circle of his arms where she swayed against him, weak with pain and pleasure. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, where she allowed herself to breath out a sigh of relief. 

One arm wrapped around her chest and shoulders, bringing her tight against his chest, while the other clasped her belly. She pressed her eyes shut as the same hand that her rendered her submissive and disciplined stroked down to cup her throbbing center gently. 

A gasp rose in the back of her throat as his fingers slipped between her swollen, wet labia to find the source of her arousal. 

“Oh, God.” She whispered, her legs closing instinctively around his hand. “What are you-....?”

“You’re wet.” He murmured, as if she needed to be reminded. 

She gave a short nod, gulping back some scathing retort. Christ knew she didn’t want to be; she’d come here for redemption, but she’d betrayed herself yet again. 

“You let me hit you.” He said, “Now let me do this in equal measure.” 

Kathryn opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off by a gasp. His fingertips swirled against her, bringing her arching to her toes. He rubbed up against her clitoris, just hard enough to send jolts of pleasure pleasure shooting through her whole body. Just precisely enough that she couldn’t find a reason to stop him. 

His mouth nudged against her ear, teeth nipping softly at the lobe before his next words leveled her with her need. 

“I”m still not your first officer.” 

“No, you’re not.” She gasped, arching back against him as his finger swirled over her soaked, swollen clit, “You’re the man with his hand between my legs.”

“Is that it?” 

She shook her head, swallowing convulsively to find her voice again. “You’re going to … going to make me-”

A moan of pleasure interrupted her strangled words as the stroke of his fingers pushed her up to the edge. Orgasm rippled at the corners of her mind, pulling her belly taut, crippling her legs. She leaned into him as her body weakened with impending pleasure, and she lost all sense of what she’d originally intended when she walked into his quarters tonight. 

“Say it.” He whispered into her ear, his breath blazing hot against her skin. “I’m going to make you?”

“Make me …” She panted, her eyes gripping shut against the flush gaining fervor at her throat, “... make me come.” 

The last word left her mouth in a breathless whimper. 

She clutched at his forearm to keep herself upright as his other hand massaged in ruinous perfection against her clitoris. The pressure came off and on, firm and dragging her toward orgasm one second, feather-light and teasing her with the idea of pleasure the next. She twisted in his grasp, groaning out need past gritted teeth, and rocking her hips into the stroke of his fingers. Her body was screaming and aching with pounding need by the time the delicate stroke of his fingers against the peak of her clitoris finally thrust her into orgasm. 

Pleasure tightened and peaked in her belly, exploding with sharp, white-hot pleasure through her whole body. She pushed to her toes and back against his chest as the pleasure came in tides, pounding against her, dragging her effortlessly away into the throes of orgasm.

His arm tightened around her as she twisted and lurched against the unrelenting stroke of his fingers. He didn’t stop touching her until her moans had dwindled away to pained whimpers, and she was collapsing, pleasured and boneless against him. 

His fingers drifted away from her smarting to clit to wrap around her waist. He held her securely against him while she breathed shallow and husky, slowly regaining strength in her limbs. 

Pleasure and pain dulled to a humming undercurrent, allowing the logical half of her brain to come to bear on the situation. If the pips at her throat could come alive, they would be burning holes in her skin now; but just their weight on her collar was enough to remind just how far she’d hurtled out of bounds. 

Kathryn pulled at Chakotay’s arm, and he released her without objection. 

Bracing her hands against the table, she ducked her head to breathe in deep, try to find her head again. The last few minutes stretched out behind her like unspooled thread, a broken piece of her plucked away from the rest and tugged free for examination. Exposure trickled a cold shiver down her spine. She was suddenly desperate to cover herself. 

She bent to grab at her bunched trousers, wrangling them up her thighs and over her hips in frantic motions. As she buttoned the pants securely around her waist, she spun around to find him gazing at her with his hands poised on his hips. Just as ready for a fight as he had been when she walked in. Spanking her hadn’t dulled his frustration by an ounce. 

“You’re reinstated, Commander.” She said. 

Snatching her jacket from the chair, she brushed past his shoulder, and marched toward the door of his quarters. 

She heard him utter a weary sigh, and half-expected an argument to follow. But he let her go. 

She strode over the threshold and out into the silent corridor, wishing with every step that he would follow her, beg her to come back. But the command structure was back in place, just like she had wanted, and her first officer was a far different man from the one who had just rendered the most exquisite pain, and finally, the most gratifying pleasure on her body.


	2. Chapter 2

Neelix’s morale booster potluck was scheduled in the mess hall the following evening. Duty shifts would be split up for the special occasion, ensuring that everyone on board would get to sample some of the many dishes being prepared. 

Usually a champion for morale boosting activities, Kathryn was having a difficult time preparing herself for the evening ahead. 

She hung the dress she intended to wear on the back of the bathroom door while she leaned into the hiss and tingle of the sonic shower. She eyed the dress, a loose-fitting, royal blue garment that went all the way to the floor, and hoped it would hide her figure the way she thought it would. 

She’d spent all of Alpha shift avoiding Chakotay’s burning gaze from the chair across from her. His hardly concealed attempts at getting her alone didn’t go without acknowledgement, but she’d be damned if she let him corner her in the ready room. She wasn’t ready to face the repercussions, not to mention the singular piercing, arousing affect just his presence seemed to have on her. 

One look at his fingers darting deftly over the command console brought back enough vivid memories to melt her into a pool of arousal in her command chair. She did the only thing she could do, and avert her gaze.  

After lingering too long in the shower, she stepped in front of the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair, just happy enough with the way it was lying to not put any effort into styling it tonight. Besides, she didn’t want any extra attention. 

A sigh spilled past her lips as her gaze shifted down her reflection, following the swell of her breasts, the tremble of her belly, the soft patch of hair between her thighs. The ghost impression of his fingers were still on her, and if she closed her eyes, she could readily recall the pleasure pulsing through her. But not only the pleasure. 

She turned her back to the mirror, and craned her neck to see over her shoulder. 

He hadn’t struck her hard enough to leave a lasting mark. Deep down, she almost wished he had. It would be easier to accept the pesky, lingering memories of the encounter if he’d wounded her, but the flush was long gone. The stinging pain was only a phantom haunting her thoughts. 

She leaned back against the cool rim of the sink, and cradled her face in her hands. Blowing a deep sigh, she tried to excavate the weight from her chest with one well-placed heave. 

It wasn’t Ransom that bothered her anymore. 

Her own flaws were now much more clearly aligned under microscopic scrutiny. Her deepest, hidden desires, all exposed in some painfully weak attempt to redeem herself. She felt ashamed, perhaps a little ridiculous to think it could have been so easy. If anything, it was much more complicated. 

Kathryn took her dress from the hanger, and slid the satin fabric over her body. The cool material spilled down her chest and over her hips, falling with airy lightness around her ankles. Turning back to the mirror, she twisted from side to side to watch the garment dance around her body. 

It would have to do. She was late. 

She took the familiar halls and turbo lift to the mess hall, rotating between pep talks to prepare herself for the evening. 

_ Just be the captain.  _ She reminded herself.  _ You can still do that in an evening gown.  _

But it wasn’t going to be easy without the comforting shield of her uniform and her pips to remind her of her status. 

The mess hall was abuzz with the conversation of a hundred milling crewmembers. The bar was piled high with dishes and desserts, and Neelix had even persuaded several ensigns to act as waitstaff. They carried platters of champagne and h'orderves throughout the mess hall. 

Kathryn flagged one of them down, and swiped a glass of champagne. She muttered a thank you as she waded into the crowd, tilting the glass to the lips. 

She scouted the room cautiously, quickly locating Chakotay from amongst the mass of suits and evening gowns. He was dressed in a black blazer and wine red sweater with a turtleneck, appearing far too dashing for her sanity. Much to her relief, he was carrying on a conversation with a handful of other officers and didn’t notice her arrival. 

Kathryn kept her head down, and tried to blend in as she made her way to the line forming for the prepared meal. 

“Captain!”

She looked up to see Neelix rushing to her side. His face was flushed from the heat of the kitchen, and he was wiping his hands on his already soiled apron. 

“Neelix, this looks amazing.” Kathryn said, smiling at his excitement despite her quiet dread. 

“Thank you, Captain. I must say, you look spectacular tonight.” 

“Thank you, Neelix, I was trying to look unassuming.” 

“Not possible.”

“Well, thank you.”

“I think it’s going very well so far.” Neelix said, casting a proud gaze around the room, “Everyone looks much happier.”

“I agree. This was a great idea.” 

“Nothing like food to bring people together.” 

“Don’t forget the champagne.” Kathryn said, lifting her drink. 

“If it’s all right with you, I was thinking of breaking out some of the Vulcan brandy we have in storage.” Neelix said. 

“Of course.” Kathryn said, “We’ve been out here for five years, I think it’s only fair we celebrate our survival after this long.” 

“I think everyone would like to hear a toast from their heroic captain.” 

Kathryn scoffed at his description, and almost choked on the flush rising at her throat. Leaning over a table for discipline was hardly heroic, and at the moment it was the only thing she could focus on. 

“Well, it’s true.” Neelix said, “You’re the one who’s gotten us this far. We might be just like the  _ Equinox  _ crew if it wasn’t for you.” 

“I appreciate your support.” Kathryn said, “And I’ll try to think of something nice to say.” 

“Neelix!” A harried shout from the back of the kitchen brought Neelix’s head swiveling. 

“Oh, that sounds like Ensign Val lighting something on fire again. I should go.” 

He rushed back behind the bar before Kathryn could bid him farewell. She smiled after him, relieved by some small measure that most of the crew still viewed her the way Neelix did. If only they knew the things she put herself through in private …

Kathryn gasped when she felt the brush of a hand on her elbow. She spun around, almost knocking the glass of champagne out of Chakotay’s hand. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said. 

“You didn’t.” She said, taking a step back and lifting her chin. 

A smile rippled across his mouth, dimples peeking out at her. She gritted her teeth at how easily he could disarm her. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” He said, nodding at her dress. 

“I was trying to be conservative.” She said, “This is still a crew function.”

“Of course. And you’re still the captain. As always.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, keenly aware of the insinuation in his tone. Was he trying to make her feel better? Was he taunting her? 

“I am.” She said. 

He cast her a warm smile as she tilted her glass back, draining the last of the champagne. 

“Are you drinking dinner tonight?” He asked. 

“Maybe. I’m not feeling hungry.”

“There’s plenty to choose from. You shouldn’t starve yourself.”

“I’m not. I’m just not hungry.”

The conversation stalled to a standstill as they gazed strictly at one another. 

He was the first to break, dipping his head in deference. 

“Fine.” He murmured, “But don’t not eat on account of me.”

“Why would it be on account of you?” 

He tilted his head, a look of dubious infuriation crossing his face. 

The sound of raucous laughter interrupted their strained silence. They both searched across the mess hall for the source, and saw that Tom and Harry had instigated a match of table tennis. Several crewmembers were clustered around the table to watch the match play out, gasping and shouting each time the ball bounced off the table. 

Kathryn suddenly felt brazen. 

“Care for a match?” She asked. 

“Me?” Chakotay asked. 

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. Why let Tom and Harry have all the fun? Don’t tell me there’s not a competitive bone in your body.” 

“Of course there is.” He said, “But I think we already know which one of us is better with a paddle.” 

Kathryn’s mouth slipped open as he brushed past her with an air of maddening self-satisfaction. He was gone before she could even try to conjure a rebuttal, and she was left scrambling to follow him into competition. 

 

~

 

With a swing of her arm, Kathryn sent the ball ricocheting off the table and out of bounds. Chakotay’s paddle missed the ball by an inch, swiping through empty air to finish the round. 

The crew members gathered in a hoard around the table cheered and roared their approval as Kathryn stood back with a pleased smile. 

“That is 3-0 Captain Janeway.” Tom shouted above the clamor, “Do we make it best out of seven?”

Chakotay shook his head, and put the paddle down. 

“He surrenders!” Tom shouted, sending the crew into another feverpitch. 

Kathryn threw her paddle down, and raised a fist in triumph. 

“Someone get the captain a drink!” Tom said, “Victory speech!”

One of the ensigns supplied a glass of champagne, and Kathryn snatched it. The din of the crowd scaled back to a hum as she took a long sip of the champagne. 

Swallowing back the champagne, she cast a cool gaze across the table at Chakotay. 

“Well, Commander, I’ve beat you at pool, tennis, Velocity, and now ping-pong. Have we tried Checkers yet?” 

A hiss rippled across the crowd. 

Chakotay managed a smile, and ducked his head. “No, we haven’t. And I forfeit now, before I embarrass myself any further.” 

“Smart choice.” 

Kathryn took another drink of her champagne before waving the gathered crew. 

“All right, someone else can have all the fun now. I think I’ve made my point to Commander Chakotay.” 

“All right, then who's up next?” Tom asked, as Kathryn backed away from the table. “This next round will be for holodeck time!”

Kathryn emerged from the mass of bodies surrounding the ping-pong table with a flush warming her cheeks. Chakotay met her on the other side, a smile toying at his mouth. 

“What’s so funny?” She asked. 

“You wouldn’t have given a damn about winning if I hadn’t goaded you.” He said. 

“And you shouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch.” She said, jabbing a finger at his chest. 

“I’ll remember that next time I challenge you to table tennis.”

Kathryn cleared her throat as they neared the exit of the mess hall. 

“Well, I think I’ll go up the ready room for a bit and look over reports before bed.” She said. 

“From the looks of it, this party is just getting started.” Chakotay said, glancing around at the jovial crowd. 

“I still intend on reporting to duty shift tomorrow without a hangover.” Kathryn replied, “Someone has to run this ship.”

“We do. Together, remember?” 

The sober tone in his voice neutralized whatever enjoyment she’d been sapping from her victory. In an instant, she remembered why she had wanted to stay as far away from him as possible tonight. 

“How could I forget?” She said. 

Without saying farewell, she turned and marched out of the mess hall. She made it halfway down the corridor before she heard his footfalls behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see him jogging after her. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Coming with you.”

“To the ready room?” 

“The bridge.” He said, “I might as well relieve H’Tari and Gleason. I’ve enjoyed the party long enough.” 

“How generous of you.” 

They stepped into the turbo lift. 

“Deck one.” Kathryn ordered. 

The doors hissed shut behind them, and the turbo lift rose in silence. Kathryn glanced out of the corner of her eye at him, distrusting his purpose for following her. He’d been itching to get her alone all day. She knew him well enough to see it without his ever saying a word. It was as clear on his face as the lines of his tattoo. 

She rationalized what she would say once they were alone, trying to think of every tactic he might use. 

Did he want to talk it out? Understand her motives? Point out the flaws in her logic? Ask if she was okay? Offer his shoulder to cry on? His lap, if she wanted to be hurt again … 

She couldn’t imagine every alternative before the door of the turbo lift opened to deposit them on the bridge. 

H’Tari and Gleason stood to attention at their posts at helm and operations when the captain and first officer stepped onto the bridge. 

“Ensigns, you’re relieved.” Chakotay said, “Go on, and enjoy the party.”

“Are you sure, Commander?” Gleason asked. “Our shift isn’t over yet.” 

“It’s an order.” Chakotay said, nodding his head toward the turbo lift. “Go on.” 

H’Tari and Gleason exchanged joyful smiles before rushing past Chakotay and Kathryn to the turbo lift. 

“Thank you, Commander, Captain.” H’Tari said as she slipped past Kathryn. 

Kathryn nodded dimly. 

The turbo lift sealed shut again, leaving her and Chakotay alone on the bridge. The hum and chirp of the monitors echoed like tiny, taunting voices while the darkness looming in the view screen threatened to swallow her trembling form. 

Chakotay wandered around the railing, past the command chairs, to the helm. He looked over the monitors, and adjusted the course in silence before setting the autopilot. 

Kathryn gazed across the bridge at him, her heart palpitating with a mixture of fear and anticipation. 

“Well, congratulations.” She said, mustering her confidence, “You have me alone. I know it’s what you’ve been edging at all night.” 

Chakotay turned from the helm, and gazed at her with leaden eyes. She could feel the pull of them from across the bridge, the hypnotic darkness in their depths lulling her into languishing need. 

“Come down here.” He said. 

Her body obeyed without hesitation, but as she walked down to meet him at the helm, her brain was screaming at her to stop. Slow down. Think about what she would do next. Consider the ramifications. 

“Tonight was fun.” He said, “But all teasing aside, I think we’re long overdue for a conversation about what happened last night.” 

“Well, you certainly aren’t pulling any punches.” She said, crossing her arms defensively. 

“I don’t when it comes to people I care about.” 

Kathryn broke off her gaze, and stared at the dull grey of the carpet. 

So, she’d been right in her first assumption. He wanted to talk it out. 

She felt more naked and unprepared than ever. 

“We’ve spent the last five years commanding together, trusting each other, sharing our deepest thoughts and fears.” Chakotay said, “But I didn’t see that coming last night, Kathryn. And I’m still not sure it was real.” 

“It was real, all right.” Kathryn muttered. 

“I was … shocked, to say the least.” He said, “And I’ll admit, maybe a little too eager to go along with it.” 

Kathryn’s gaze snapped back to his. 

There was no lie in his eyes. And there hadn’t been one in the swift deliverance of pain at his hand. 

“I just need to know …” 

Kathryn swallowed hard as his voice trailed off, and his gaze darkened. 

He shifted closer, his gaze tracing down the curve of her jaw and throat to her breasts, plumped above the stiff posture of her crossed arms. 

“Which part of it did you want more?” He asked, his voice a scraped whisper, “The part where I hit you, or the part where I touched you?” 

Kathryn lifted her chin against the onslaught of his words. She hadn’t even been sure of what she wanted - and still wasn’t.

“I-I came to you because I felt guilty.” She said, “Because I felt like I deserved something … something I couldn’t give myself.”

His jaw clenched, and he nodded stiffly. “I see.”

“I didn’t ask you to-”

Kathryn looked away as the thought of his fingers between her thighs sent blood rushing to her face. 

“Do you wish I hadn’t?”

Kathryn focused on the glint of the railing across the bridge, hunting for some easy way out of this conversation. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she couldn’t tell him the truth. Not now, not after all this time.

“Kathryn.” He said, firmly. 

She bit back a gasp when he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, and forced her gaze back to him. 

“You blindsided me, and I went along with it.” He said, “Now I feel like I deserve and explanation.” 

“I wanted you to hurt me.” She snapped, jarring her chin from his hand, “And you did it. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.”

“I did it because you asked me- because you practically ordered me to-”

“You did it because you wanted to.” She said, casting him a cutting glare, “Let’s not fool ourselves into thinking otherwise.” 

“Fine, I won’t lie.” He said, holding up a hand, “But it’s not how I would have preferred it.” 

“How did you prefer it?” She asked, “Leather straps, a blindfold, and a wooden paddle?” 

“Damnit, Kathryn, you know that is not what I meant.” 

She paced away from his wounded expression, her hands poised defiantly on her hips. 

“Will you for once be honest with yourself?” He asked, softly, “You can tell me as many versions of that night as you want, but none of them make any sense if you didn’t want something more. There’s plenty of other ways you could have punished yourself for your guilt.” 

“Believe me, I’ve thought of all of them.” 

“But you only chose the one.” 

“I chose the one I could live with. Hurting myself, it sounds a little pathetic doesn’t it? But you - I trust you. I knew you wouldn’t take it any farther than it needed to go.” 

She felt the weight of his gaze on her back, and turned to meet it with a slow, steadying inhale. 

“I took it as far as I thought it should go, and you asked for more.”

“You were being too delicate.” 

“And you deserve only the highest degree?” He asked, a frown settling on his brow, “Jesus, Kathryn.” 

She swallowed at the note of pained disbelief in his voice. It was so easy for him to cast her as a saint; he couldn’t see the arena of her mind where the forces of right and wrong were at war. Where wrong won more often than she could live with. 

“Are you satisfied?” She asked. 

Her voice was soft and cowed in the acoustics of the bridge, where it had only ever been commanding and confident. She felt stripped of her armor in her own command structure, more naked and exposed on this night, in this damn evening gown, than she had been half-naked and bent over Chakotay’s table. 

He shook his head. 

“What else could you possibly want?” 

“The truth.” 

The two words were almost a sigh. A broken-hearted whimper from a man who had been her rock for five years. 

Kathryn’s shoulders stiffened, searching for some fortitude in her crumbling walls. 

“The truth you’ve been trying to hide for years now.” He pressed, his eyes pleading. 

“And-” She choked, and had to start over in a whisper, “And what truth is that?”

He approached her, gently this time, the anger gone from his eyes. This look frightened her more than the aggression, the demands, the power in his hand. This look could destroy her. 

“You opened a door last night, and you can’t slam it in my face now.” 

She stood paralyzed as he brought his fingertips to her cheek. As he stroked her face, his other hand slid around her waist, pressing the shape of his palm through the silken fabric of her gown and into her skin. 

“Please.” The word ground from her throat, and she barely recognized her own voice. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” He whispered, his fingers tightening around her cheek, “Don’t touch you? Kiss you?”

“Don’t make this more than it is.” She whispered, her pressing her eyes shut. 

“What exactly do you think this is?” 

She dug the heels of her hands into his chest, and broke free of the loose embrace. She brushed past his shoulder on her way to the helm, and braced her hands on the console. Dragging in a steadying breath, she focused on the blur of passing stars just outside the view screen. 

“I gave you an order.” She said, softly, “You followed it. That’s it.” 

He let out a quiet, disbelieving sigh. 

“You gave me something, and I offered to grant whatever request you had in return. You didn’t take me up on the offer then, but it still stands if you feel like you were somehow misled.” 

“What request do you think you can grant that could possible balance out last night?” 

Kathryn turned from the helm console to cast him a narrowed gaze. 

“What do you want?” She asked, letting her hands drop loosely to her sides, “You were eager to touch me last night.” 

She pulled at the hem of her gown, gathering the loose folds of fabric up over her knees and thighs. 

His gaze caught on the bare length of her legs, a shuddering breath lifting his chest. His gaze flickered with some kind of argument, but it withered and died before it could make it’s way to his mouth. As she dragged the edge of the gown up over her lap, his hands curled into trembling fists. 

He broke into a stride, coming at her like an enraged, if not focused, bull. She leaned back against the console as he marched up to the helm, and grabbed her by the thighs. Hiis fingers bit into her bare knees, forcing her legs open wide, a gasp to her lips.  

He took her by the hair at her nape, and dragged her throat open to the velvet stroke of his lips and coarse sting of his teeth. She clutched at his shoulders as he sucked down on her fluttering pulse, so hard she could feel the bruise rising instantaneously. 

“Chakotay-” She gasped out. 

His hands delved below the bunched hem of her dress, and wiggled underneath her ass to lift her against him. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock grinding against her pubic bone. 

His mouth tore from her neck, leaving a blazing trail of bite marks and saliva all the way up to the her jaw and chin until he reached her mouth. She turned her face eagerly into the kiss, and allowed her mouth to be consumed and sucked raw by the fervor of his lips and teeth.

When the fury of the kiss eased, she fell back against the helm console, panting and light-headed with the rush of adrenaline and arousal. He took her by the hips, and pushed her around to face the view screen. Her limp, pulsing limbs went along with his urging, and she found herself bent over the console, back in the same position as the night before. 

She threw a gaze over her shoulder to see him lifting the dress over her backside and looping his fingers under her panties. 

She was still lucid enough to realize just how dangerous of a position they were in, but her objections were lodged in her throat. She could only watch in dazed shock and pleasure as the panties slid over her ass and fell to ankles. She kicked them away as Chakotay nudged her thighs open. 

“Oh …” She panted as his hand grazed her bare ass, where he had already left his indelible mark. 

Pleasure rolled through her belly as he leaned over her, planting a hard kiss at her nape. His mouth scorched along the back of her neck and shoulder while his hand slipped around her the front of her thigh to find her pussy. His fingers stroked along the labia, barely slipping inside and grazing her clitoris with the first pass. 

“Oh!” Her choked cry came louder this time. 

She lunged, grabbing onto the front of the console with white-knuckled fists. Her body pulsed and gushed heat in response to the small caress, the clench and pang of pleasure already teasing low in her belly. 

Chakotay leaned back, taking the pleasure of his hand with him, and she bit back a frustrated moan. 

She’d spent all of Alpha shift trying to convince herself this outcome wasn’t what she wanted. It had been a simple arrangement, a shift in power; a temporary reversal of roles. Bent over the helm console in a evening gown was hardly the definition of temporary, or simple. 

Chakotay’s palm slid over her ass, bringing her attention jolting back to the memories of the previous night. She stiffened, biting at her lower lip in convoluted desire. Her eyes slipped shut as his palm lingered, and finally - it had only been one night, but it felt like an eternity ago -  _ finally  _ arched back. 

The spanking came swift and sharp, lacerating the silence of the bridge with a fleshy crack. 

She gasped, her mouth stretching open in horror and pleasure. 

“Chakotay-”

_ Crack.  _

The sound echoed through her ears, turning all else to white noise. She clutched at the helm, blinking and scrambling to reconcile this moment as real. Trying to gather her ire to stop him. 

The third blow physically thrust her against the console with it’s force, sending sharp nettles of pain diving into her skin. The simmering burn of friction started just below the surface, and she could all but feel the handprint branded on her skin. 

She was still gulping back her moan when his hand came down a fourth time. She lurched against the helm again, and he took her firmly by the hip to drag her back into position. Grabbing at the console, she tried to pull herself away, but his grip was strong. His other hand stronger. 

The fifth spanking expelled the cry welling at the back of her throat, and opened the floodgates of need pounding between her hips. She could feel the hot moisture pulsing from her, gathering at the trembling barrier of her labia and threatening to spill to the floor of the bridge. The ache was almost more than she could bear, worse than the stinging pain of this humiliating, yet erotic discipline. 

The plea began to build in her chest, first trapped behind the clench of her teeth, then exuding in a low hiss, finally spilling past her lips when the sixth, seventh, and eighth spankings stripped away her final inhibitions. 

“Oh God, please!” She cried, twisting against the console to escape. 

He paused, and she could hear him breathing in shallow, scraped bursts. 

“I thought this was what you wanted, Kathryn.” He whispered, his voice low and dangerous. 

Kathryn swallowed, at a loss now for her voice. 

Face hot and body singing, she nodded weakly. 

He leaned over her, hips chafing against her punished backside. 

“I’ll stop now if you want.” He whispered, his mouth nudging against her ear. 

Silence simmered between them, only their shallow, exhilarated breathing pushing back an forth to note the passage of the aching seconds. 

Heat burned at Kathryn’s cheeks and backside, and pleasure hummed below her hips. The moisture gushing from her had trickled down one tender fold to taint her inner thigh. The urge to beg for orgasm was sharp, tantalizing, the memory of his fingers against her clitoris a pleasure she couldn’t bear to ignore. 

But tonight, she’d provoked him in a way she’d never been able to before. And might never again. What if this was her last chance to feel this pain, this rush, the cleansing freedom in the strike of his hand? 

Her forehead sank to to the cool steel of the helm console, a trapped breath escaping her lips with a whimper. She shook her head, to humiliated by her own desires to speak them. 

There was a beat before he replied, and she could sense his hesitation - and his desire. 

“Don’t stop?” He asked, searching almost desperately for clarification. 

She shook her head harder. Planting her feet harder into the carpet, she arched her naked backside toward the promise of stinging punishment. 

One palm settled on her lower back, and journeyed upward until his fingers were curling through the hair at her nape. Pinning her down just like the first time. 

Her pulse spiked, a rush of light-headed arousal flooding her brain at the absolute mark of surrender. She was no longer in control, in any way. She was no longer the captain, even in her own domain. She was just Kathryn. And Kathryn wanted nothing more than for him to go on hurting her into she was a mess of raw skin, whimpers, and tears. 

“Please …” She whispered, her voice warped with need. 

“Shh.” He whispered, his fingers tightened around her hair. 

Her scalp stung mildly under the pull of his fingers, sending a ripple of shivers down her spine. 

“Don’t speak.” He murmured, dragging his fingers over her bare skin, “Not until I say.” 

The drum of her heartbeat reached a deafening roar. Every word that came from his mouth plucked away another scrap of her power, her control, her dignity. Leaving her small and helpless below him. She wanted believe it had been by accident rather than design, but her own actions had inarguably brought her here. 

She curled her lips over her teeth, pursing back any sound that threatened to spill from her throat. 

His fingers grazed her burning skin before drifting away. 

Her whole body clenched as the anticipation reached an almost unbearable peak. 

_ Crack _ . 

The flat of his palm struck, hard and severe, shooting pain through layers of skin and into her bone. She jerked against the console, struggling to dampen the cry swelling in her throat. 

The tenth one came, sending her eyes rolling back, her body clenching, her skin screaming in blistering pain. Her body arched instinctively against the console, and his hand chased after her trembling attempt at escape. 

_ Eleven.  _

Her heart pounded. How far would he take it? How many more could she stand before violated his gag order?

His fist clutched at her nape, trapping her cheek against the console. She breathed shallow and quick as he shifted around to her side for a better angle. His erection strained against her hip, throbbing with unspoken desire. 

With the twelfth spanking, his palm found untouched skin, sparking fresh, stinging pain through her. Her mouth stretched open in a breathless gasp as the ache and bite of pain tore through her to new, white-hot, pulsing heights.

_ Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.  _ They all came in quick succession, her body jerking and twisting after each one. 

_ Oh, God …  _ The thought screamed on repeat through her brain, but she fought not to let it spill from her mouth. 

And then, when she didn’t think the spanking could be anymore severe, the pace and strength of his palm increased. 

_ Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.  _

A cry bubbled at the back of her throat, her chest convulsing, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes in valiant battle not to sob and plead aloud. 

_ Twenty.  _

Oh, Jesus, it wasn’t over. 

She pressed her eyes shut, searching for some ire in her chest, some part of the commander inside her that refused to be treated this way. But she was nowhere to be found.

Her body was on fire, but singing with need.  She could feel her clitoris swelling and throbbing, her body clamping with arousal. Moisture trickled slick and hot from her, a sharp reminder that this wasn’t just about pain. The humiliation of her own need looped back into her desire to be punished, fanning the flames of arousal licking between her legs. 

_ Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three.  _

A strangled, high-pitched cry burst from Kathryn’s lips as she lurched against the console. It was half a moan, half a mangled plea for mercy; and it made him pause. 

She rested against the console, her legs trembling and weak with the rush of adrenaline and pain. Clinging to the front of the helm, she dragged her head up. 

“Please …” She whispered, her voice hoarse and twisted with a lump of tears. 

His fingers slid free of the hair at her nape, and he bent to press his mouth just behind her ear. She could smell his aftershave, a spicy, earthen scent that she’d spent years stealing whiffs of when she thought he wouldn’t notice. It was a comforting scent now, a grounding reminder that he was still the man she’d followed into the Badlands, the man she’d offered the position of first officer, the man she’d grown to love in a deeper way than she’d ever expected - or wanted. He was still the stoic but loyal Maquis captain she’d placed her trust in even if she wasn’t the young, idealistic Starfleet officer he’d trusted in return. 

“Is that enough?” He whispered. 

She nodded, meekly. 

“You can speak.” He offered. 

She swallowed back the emotion in her throat, and found her voice in a husky whisper. 

“Will you do something else?”

“Name it.” 

“Touch me.”

His breath rustled low and heated against her ear as his hand rushed to obey. His fingers settled between her legs, caressing lightly and testing her response for a few aching moments. She opened her legs wider and rolled her hips into the stroking until he dragged his fingers along the slit, laying her open. 

A gasp caught in the back of her throat as his fingers swirled through the liquid gathered at her opening and coating her labia and clit. He groaned against her ear, and pressed his fingers deeper, breaching her wet, soft hole with ease. Two fingers delved inside, plunging through the gushing arousal; they pumped languidly inside her, and she opened to his touch, offering hardly a twitch a resistance. 

“Oh …” She moaned, grabbing at her wrist, “Chakotay, I need-”

She trailed off into a moan as her tugging brought his fingers out of her, wet and gliding over her clitoris. She arched over the helm, a gasp tearing from her throat as white-hot pleasure snaked through her. Tendrils of arousal stretched out from her belly to the rest of her body, bringing her clenching and shuddering the verge of pleasure. 

“Oh, there …” She panted, her brow twisting in concentration. 

He crowded closer behind her, and set his fingers firmly against her clit. Massaging in long, circular motions, he rubbed her up to the edge of orgasm in a few quick moments. Kathryn lurched against him as the first ripples of pleasure worked through her, not quite orgasm but something close enough to make her ache more severely than she had thought was possible. 

“Oh, oh …” She whined, straining for the pleasure that dangled just beyond her reach. 

He eased his caress until the heat and throb faded but hardly died. He came at her clitoris again, this time with small strokes and teasing flicks of his thumb. She rocked and twisted back against him, searching desperately for the angle that would send her over the edge. 

But he was nothing if not precise. 

She got only as much as he was willing to give, and as the moments stretched on, she wanted to scream in frustration. Her body dangled at the edge of pleasure, the clenches and flushes of heat coming readily, but the orgasm lingering just at the fringes of her mind. 

Then, he wasn’t stroking her at all. 

He left her bent over the console, her clitoris puffy and aching, her pussy dripping thick, wet heat. Her eyes flew open, a desperate groan rising in the back of her throat. She looked over her shoulder to see him unzipping his trousers. 

Her heart stammered as she glimpsed the hard length of his cock just before it disappeared between her legs. 

“Oh-” She gasped as the dull, rigid head of his cock slid along her gushing labia. 

A shuddering moan issued from Chakotay’s lips as her pussy spilled arousal down his nudging cock. 

“Kathryn …” He whispered, his voice choked with need. 

She reached back to feel his thigh against hers, and grabbed onto the lean flesh and muscle. She pulled him against her, letting his cock slide into her for the first time. 

He fell over her, bracing himself against the console with trembling hands. They both paused with their bodies joined, reveling through each sensation that followed in quick succession. 

She’d thought of this moment often, sometimes unconsciously in her dreams. She would wake with soaked panties and throbbing clitoris; a few easy strokes between her thighs and she would come apart in decadent pleasure. How often had he done the same? 

The questions and doubts she’d harbored melted away to nothing as dreams shaped into reality in the reckless danger of her hands. She’d wanted this, pursued this, and in a way, instigated it with her request for punishment. The parallel lines of her pain and pleasure had circled around to meet in the middle. 

Her body was soft and pliant and wet to the steady, pounding thrusts, taking the whole length of his cock with ease, and if it were possible, aching for more. She could feel him hitting her depths with each thrust, but her brain was afire with images of him taking her apart. 

She groaned aloud for more, felt him take on this command with fiery devotion. His hands gripped with bruising strength around her bare hips, anchoring her in place over the console, before he fucked into her with renewed vigor. 

Kathryn clung to the console, moaning out her pleasure as his cock filled her, striking deep, rattling her the bone. Pleasure lay at the fringes of her mind, but she was fully occupied by the sensation of his cock rutting into her. 

He didn’t ease his relentless thrusting until the trembles rippled through him, and he unwound with low, gasping moans against her shoulder. She felt wet heat gush from him, filling her with release, pumping it into her and from her as his thrusts stumbled on through the spasms. 

When he pulled back, she felt it drip from her and grow sticky on her thighs. 

She stood up slowly, letting the dress back down around her ankles. She focused on the helm display as he buttoned his pants behind her in silence. 

The hiss of the turbo lift doors opening jarred them both. Kathryn spun around to see Tuvok entering the bridge with a padd in his hand. 

“Captain,” He said, “I was expecting H’Tari and Gleason.” 

Kathryn was certain he could see the shock on her face as she struggled to speak. 

Chakotay stepped in, his expression as calm and unhurried as the ocean on a still day. 

“I sent them to the party.” He said, “I’ll stay until the next shift arrives. I think the captain had some reports to review.” 

He sent her a pointed look. He was offering her a way out; how generous of him. 

She plastered a smile on her face, and nodded. “Yes, I’ll be in the ready room.”

She strode carefully across the bridge, as quickly as she could with come dripping from her. The moment she was inside the ready room, she collapsed against the wall with loud sigh. 

Her repose lasted only a few seconds when she realized she’d left her panties lying on the floor, no doubt tucked under the helm console. 

Panic speared through her chest, destroying any thought of pleasure. The cold fear of discovery was the worst she could imagine; it would destroy her image as captain, not to mention humiliate her in front of one of her best friends. 

Kathryn jumped when the doorbell chimed. 

She hesitated for a few anxious moments before she called. “Come.” 

The doors opened, admitting Chakotay. She let out a breath, relieved it wasn’t Tuvok. 

He smiled when he saw her ashen expression. Opening his fist, he presented her crumpled panties. 

Glaring, she snatched them from his hand. 

“Tuvok didn’t see me pick them up.” He reassured her, “Our secret is safe.” 

“I can’t believe you fucked me on the bridge.” She said, indignation engaging like a defense mechanism. “Do you know how many people could have walked in?” 

“As I recall, you weren’t exactly begging me to stop.” 

Kathryn hopped from one foot to the other as she stepped into the panties and pulled them back up around her waist. 

“My choices have been less than stellar lately, if you hadn’t noticed. I’m not exactly trusting my own decisions, and now I have to second guess yours too.” 

The smile faded from his mouth, and a sober shadow fell over his face. 

“You’re right.” He said, “But I’m not sorry.” 

“Of course you’re not. You came.” 

He put his hands on his hips defensively as she spat the words out, and walked away. 

“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t finished with you when Tuvok interrupted.” 

The remark stopped her cold in the middle of the ready room. She curled her hands into fists, fighting back the urge to challenge him. He could have made her come anytime he wanted. 

“If we hadn’t been on the bridge, I wouldn’t have let you up for hours.” He added, his tone taking on an infuriating, casual note. 

Heat sparked anew between Kathryn’s legs, not at all dimmed by her indignation, or even the near miss of being discovered. 

She glanced hesitantly over her shoulder as he stepped up behind her, brushing the back of her arm with his fingertips. 

“I want to put my mouth on you.” He whispered, his breath trickling hot down the back of her neck, “Lick the juices from your body while you writhe under my tongue.” 

Kathryn swallowed convulsively as heat rushed to reclaim her throat and cheeks. 

His hands scaled her arms and dragged taut around her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest. His mouth pressed wet and hot against the shell of her ear, his nostrils breathing a hot, vibrating of exhale of need against her cheek. 

“I want to eat you over and over again.” He whispered, “Until you’ve come so many times that you can’t move.” 

Need plunged into Kathryn’s belly, propelled by the husky tone of his voice, the erotic confessions of things she had only imagined in her dreams. His come was cooling between her legs, but she could feel her own pulsating heat rushing to melt it. 

“Will you let me?” He murmured. 

One hand slid from her shoulder to capture her breast, squeezing and molding it to his palm through the thin silk of her dress. 

She nodded haltingly, too delirious with arousal to claim otherwise. 

“Go to your quarters.” He said, “Get a shower. I’ll meet you there in an hour.” 

He let her go, and she spun around to see him striding across the ready room. 

“So now you’re handing out orders?” She demanded, with all the meager confidence she could manage at this point. 

He paused at the door of the ready room, a sly smile curling the corner of his mouth. 

“I am.” He said, “I’m sure you already know what happens if you don’t obey.” 

He was gone before she could protest. In an instant, the night was over, her good intentions ruined, and the only witnesses were the stars speeding by outside the window and vanishing in the blink of an eye. 


	3. Chapter 3

The sensation of the sonic shower stripping away the sweat and release from her body was both strange and pleasant. There was a low tingle as the come evaporated from between her thighs, the invisible caress of energy cleansing her skin. Her own wetness was lost the sonic shower, but as she leaned against the wall and let the scene on the bridge replay through her mind, it was quickly replaced. 

Kathryn rested her forehead against the pale lights of the shower, and breathed out a low, aching moan. Her body still stung from punishment, the reddened skin of her backside evidence that the shower couldn’t wash away. 

She reached back to drag a hand over the raw flesh, and bit at her lower lip to contain a whimper. The lightest brush of her fingertips ignited a fresh wave of pain, and in turn, a clench of pleasure between her legs. 

He would be here, in her cabin, within the hour. The seconds were counting down slow and steady, each one more torturous than the next. She could only imagine what he would do to her, the things he would say, the way his voice could twist her into submission and pleasure.

He’d promised to do much more than touch her. 

Kathryn let her hand wander between her legs as she recalled his words. 

_ I want to put my mouth on you.  _

She’d looked at his mouth more than once, and wondered at its talents. Now all her fantasies were about to be confirmed, and she couldn’t wait for another twenty minutes. 

Whimpering softly, she stroked at the slick heat gathering between her thighs. Her fingers stroked gingerly over her clitoris, testing the height of her arousal, and rewarding her with a white-hot spear of pleasure through her belly. A gasp worked it’s way up her throat as the pleasure clamped down instantly, threatening to send her spilling over the edge with the slightest caress. 

She curled her hand into a fist, tempted to let the pleasure take her, aching to feel this building climax at the mercy of Chakotay’s mouth. She was just delirious enough with need and arousal to put her hand back between her legs, and begin stroking eagerly. 

The hum of the sonic shower turned to white-noise as the pleasure bubbled up from her belly, between her legs, into her chest. Her clitoris ached beneath the swirl of her fingers, twitching and throbbing with the impending orgasm. 

Just as she felt the pleasure begin to crest within her, the sound of the door hissing open in the other room jarred her eyes open. 

She spun around to see Chakotay through the doorway of the bathroom. He scanned her quarters before his gaze circled around to find hers. Turning on his heel, he strode toward the bathroom, each step purposeful and commanding. 

Kathryn lapsed against the wall of the shower, her heart faltering in her chest. Her hand rested loosely against her hip, her fingers glistening with arousal. 

His dark gaze pinned her to the wall as he entered the bathroom. 

“You … you used your security code to get in here.” She whispered, “That’s a breach of protocol, Commander.” 

“Are you going to report me?” He asked, his head tilting incrementally. 

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to stand upright. 

“Not this time.” She said, gathering her composure. 

He gazed at her with a teasing smile, his dimples peeking out at her unnerved expression. 

“Come out of there.” He said, waving a hand. 

Kathryn lifted her chin. “Computer, end sonic shower.” She ordered. 

The sonic shower powered down, leaving them in utter silence. 

He held out a hand to her. 

Fingers trembling, she reached out to take his proffered hand. His hand wrapped firmly around hers, leading her from the shower, and past the doorway of the bathroom. A chill rippled down her body as they entered her quarters, the prickle of goosebumps and anticipation. 

He paused a few feet from the bed, and pulled her around in front of him. His arm looped around her waist, bringing her flush against his chest. Her chest swelled, nipples erect and aching against the woolen fabric of his sweater. 

He bent to kiss her, hesitating just a few centimeters from her mouth in an invitation. She turned her chin up to the kiss, and let her eyes slide shut when his mouth captured hers. His fingers delved into her hair, dragging her mouth into subservience under the passionate stroke of his own. 

He kissed her until she lost her breath, and she was clutching at his chest, her legs almost too weak to support herself. The shiver of need that laced down her spine heightened as his mouth tore from hers and worked it’s way to her earlobe. 

“You were touching yourself, weren’t you?” He whispered, his voice twining into her ears like honey and gravel. 

A whimper lunged at the back of her throat. 

“How do you-” She began, floundering for indignation. 

“I’ve only witnessed that look on your face when you orgasm once, but it’s not one I would forget.” He murmured, “You were close.” 

Kathryn wiggled in his embrace, mollified and eager for escape. 

His arm tightened around her waist, imprisoning her against him. 

“But not close enough.” He added, dropping a small, wet kiss below her earlobe. 

He drew back, his dark, smoldering gaze catching her wide-eyed, blinking one. 

“Trust me, I encourage every orgasm you might want or need, but tonight, I’d like to be responsible for the first one.” He said, smiling deviously at her flushed expression, “And the second, and the third, and the fourth … And as many as I can before 0700.” 

Kathryn’s lips moved wordlessly for a moment, searching for some reply. She’d always had some answer to his banter, but that was on the bridge or the ready room, not here in her quarters. That was about the shared burden of duty, or his knowledge of boxing tournaments, or their shared loved of literature - not her sexual fantasies. 

He released her, and motioned to the bed, where the sheets were made up smooth and stiff in regulation standards. 

“Lie down.” He said. 

She was relieved not to argue, as she didn’t know how much longer her legs could hold her upright. She backed up until she felt the edge of the mattress, and fell gratefully to the plush comforter. She sank down against the pillows, her heart fluttering with giddy expectations. 

Chakotay shrugged out of his jacket, and discarded it on the nearby chair. His gaze didn’t leave hers as he untucked the sweater, and slowly peeled it up his ribs, and over his head. The garment came free of his wrists, offering her a fine, unhindered view of his broad shoulders and naked chest. 

Her hands fluttered from her sides, to her hips, to her chest, searching with quivering anticipation for something to grab hold of. He was climbing between her legs like a great, prowling cat, his gaze taking her apart and laying her vulnerable piece by piece. She could feel her confidence sliding away with the current of need, whatever composure she had gathered between the ready room and this moment vanishing in the blink of an eye. 

His palms slid over her inner thighs, pressing them open to him with hardly a nudge. She melted like butter in his capable hands, spine arching and dancing like a leaf in a windstorm as his mouth grazed along the soft flesh of her thigh and hip. 

“Chakotay …” She whimpered, reaching down for his hair. 

Her fingers curled around the hair at his crown, eagerly dragging his face toward her pussy. He resisted, maintaining a steady, methodical course heading down her inner thigh, the rise of her hipbone, and the swell of her mound. He nuzzled into the soft patch of hair, breathing deep the musky scent emanating from her. 

“Yes …” She panted, though he had yet to touch her. 

Her hips strained toward the hot breath issuing from his mouth, the very tickle of his exhale sending waves of pleasure through her core. 

He grasped her hips, dragging her down firmly against the mattress. 

A whine squeezed past her lips, but her mind was too caught up in the brilliant throb of need to be bothered by what was left of her status as captain. She didn’t have to be strong here, didn’t have to pretend she didn’t want and need the same things other women did. She collapsed into the vulnerability, allowing the rhythmic clench and pang of pleasure to take her far away from this ship, into another galaxy if she could. 

His mouth pressed against her, first claiming the slick folds and suckling her juices down his throat, and then smearing his tongue lavishly down her glistening slit. 

Kathryn’s spine snapped taut, and a cry twisted from her lips. His tongue laid her open, and dragged across her clitoris, forming a languid circle around the pulsing bud of flesh and singing nerves. Her fingers pulled at his hair as hot pleasure raced through her body, the first sharp prickles of orgasm radiating at the corners of her mind. 

“Oh, God!” She cried as his tongue swirled a bit harder, faster. 

In the space of a minute, she was thrust the verge of pleasure, her body singing, and throbbing, and aching with torturous need. She gnashed at her lower lip, the frustration of repressed desires and well nurtured arousal building and churning to warp speeds. 

His hands were strong around her bucking hips, holding her against the the sweet, erotic stroke of his tongue. She arched, and sobbed a choked cry of need as the pleasure came surging in hot, aching pulses between her hips. Sweat itched between her shoulderblades and under arms as her demanding chase for pleasure pushed her to physical, trembling exhaustion. 

All his promises, and all her fantasies collided as the pleasure came charging through her. She had prepared herself for this moment, waited on the edge of torturous arousal, but the impact between her thighs was stronger and more euphoric than anything she’d felt in years. It hit her like a wave, dragging her stiff and trembling against his devoted tongue before the spasms carried her away into a bright, pulsating moment of indulgent bliss.

She rocked against his face through every spasm, each one hitting her harder than the last. Pleasure worked it’s way through every fiber and nerve-ending, and when it vacated her quaking body, she was left languid and breathless against the familiar, Egyptian cotton of her bedsheets. 

Kathryn opened her eyes slowly, unable to suppress the smile tugging at her mouth. 

A low chuckle rose in the back of her throat, and she pressed both hands over her face to mute the flush spilling lavishly up her neck and cheeks. 

Chakotay kissed against her inner thigh, and up her belly, traversing the quivering plane of skin and ribs until he reached her breasts. 

“Good?” He whispered, his breath rippling hot over her nipple. 

She curled her fingers back from her eyes, and peeked down at him. Her voice was muffled in her palms, “I … I haven’t come that hard in … in years.” 

His smile stretched to a self-satisfied tilt. 

“When was it?” He asked, dragging a thumb over her nipple. 

“What?” 

“The last time you came that hard?” 

She pursed her lips, the flush on her cheeks reaching critical heat. 

“Back home, I had this … vibrator.” She said, her voice choked with embarrassment, “My sister gave it to me as a gag gift when Mark and I got engaged, and I didn’t bring it out very often but …” 

“What made you use it, then?” 

“I was stationed on Mars for about a month, so we were apart.” She said, “I don’t know what possessed me to take it with me, but I … I did, and one night, I was feeling particularly lonely and-”

“I can just imagine it.” He murmured, his eyes growing heavy with arousal, “You, pleasuring yourself … it must be a beautiful sight.” 

Kathryn swallowed hard as fresh arousal trickled down through her belly and between her legs. 

Chakotay shifted from between her legs to the mattress beside her. He laid a kiss over her mouth as he fondled her breast softly. Kathryn whimpered into his mouth as he rolled one nipple between his fingers, rubbing and pinching it to aching erection. 

She rolled her hips toward him, but his hand shot down to pin her flat against the mattress. 

“You’re staying just like this, all night.” He whispered, his hand lingering on her hip, “On your back, legs open. Are you ready for the next one?” 

She nodded, biting at her lower lip to quell a moan. 

His hand drifted between her legs, brushing against her soft, wet folds. Her hips urged toward the caress, eager need already pulsing with steady, hot gushes through her. 

“Give me your hand.” He ordered quietly. 

Kathryn lifted her hand from the mattress. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and guided her hand down, between her thighs. His fingers slid down the back of her hand, and over her knuckles to cover her own fingers. He shifted her fingers lower, guiding the tips between her labia and up against her clitoris. 

Kathryn moaned as her fingers slid through gushing wetness and swirled against her clit under the guidance of his hand. 

“Oh, Chakotay-”

He pressed his mouth against her temple, breathing out a slow, shaking sigh as they touched her together. His hand fully covered hers, easily controlling the motion of her fingers despite the twitch and rock of her hips. He didn’t allow her to caress too hard, but kept the pace at a languid, creeping swirl. 

“Yes, yes …” She chanted, her throat choking on the aroused word. 

Too easily, the pleasure rose like the immeasurable swell of the ocean in her belly. It rose higher and higher, dragging her back to the peak of arousal with a few lavish strokes of her fingers. She urged into the caress, her body humming and aching with anticipation. 

She rubbed harder against the grip of his hand, moaning, “Let me.” 

His fingers laced between hers, ripping her hand away from her dripping pussy with almost cruel satisfaction. 

“Ohh…” Kathryn groaned, squeezing her thighs together for the slightest friction. 

Releasing her hand, he grabbed her nearest thigh, and dragged it open, over his own. Splayed open and quaking with need, she could only tear at sheets as he brought his fingers back to her clit. 

“Yes, please …” She panted, arching into the slight stroke. 

He rubbed her clitoris for a few, pleasurable moments before sliding his fingers down and into her. Two of them breached her, delving all the way to the knuckle, and opening her swollen, aching walls. 

“Oh, God!” 

The cry lunged from her throat, and her legs closed around his hand. 

Still, his fingers pumped into her, fucking her back into weak, trembling submission. As the pleasure crested inside her, she let her legs fall back open. She could hear the wet sound of his fingers sliding in and out of her below the anguished scream of need in the back of her mind. His fingers fell into a swirling rhythm, finding the sweet spot nestled inside, and teasing that tiny part of her until she came apart like unspooled thread. 

The second orgasm came through her like a storm, violent and rapid at first, and then tapering off the trickle of rain, the lingering sweet scent of what had come before. 

She sank back against the mattress, her body weak and weightless, humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. 

When his fingers slid out of her, she could feel the rush of wet heat painting her labia and inner thighs. She was dripping and throbbing, yet not sore enough yet to deny another orgasm just like the first two. She wanted to be raw and unable to move before she begged for mercy, just like he had promised her in the ready room. 

She opened her eyes to see him leaning over her, his gaze tracing over the shadows and planes of her face. 

“What?” She whispered, off-put by the secretive smile touching his mouth. 

“Do you know how often I’ve thought of this?” He asked, glancing down her body, “You, in the throes of orgasm?” 

She glanced away from his scorching gaze, blushing again for what felt like the hundredth time today. 

“It’s more beautiful than I imagined.” He whispered. 

“I … I don’t-”

“Don’t argue.” He said, pressing a kiss to her temple, “And you don’t have to say anything. Just know that this is how I would have preferred it.”

“You did it again.” She whispered, “You … punished me.”

“I knew it was what you wanted … needed.” He said, a frown curling his brow, “It was the last wall standing between us.” 

“Will you ever do it again?” She asked, her voice choked with a strange sense of panic. 

“If you want me to.” He said, “But not under the guise of reparation. You have nothing left to atone for. The next time I spank you, it will be because you like how it feels.” 

She blinked, only able to nod her response. 

He was so resolute, so confident in his interpretation of their future that she couldn’t imagine challenging him. 

“Now,” He said, dropping a kiss on her forehead, “I promised you a third orgasm, and a fourth …” 

She opened her legs generously as he crawled back down below her hips. 

She hadn’t thought it was possible to be this turned on again already, but as his hands cradled her hips, and his mouth grazed her belly, she could feel the slow burn of need building between her legs. 

This time was slow and tender, and she wasn’t desperate. She relaxed against the stroke of his tongue, allowing the arousal to simmer and swell, letting him be gentle, watching him worship her body. 

When the orgasm came, it was like tendrils of pleasure had curled in and amongst her nerve-endings and slowly expanded from the inside out. She rocked languid and sore against his mouth, her body pumping out a staid but blissful rhythm of orgasm. 

She didn’t let him start touching her again until he had stripped out of his trousers, and thrust into her for his own pleasure. He held her close while their bodies joined and fused, two wounded, kindred souls reaching for each other and finding happiness. It was a salve over her self-inflicted wounds, over her guilt, her sorrow, her loneliness; it was everything she had imagined it might be, but more. She didn’t think about pain anymore; she only thought about the next bright schism of pleasure running through her, and the steady whisper of his voice telling her she was beautiful, telling her in unshakeable confidence that everything would be all right. 


	4. Epilogue

Sandrine’s was dimly lit, all of the holocharacters deactivated except for the bartender and the piano player. The musician played a tinkling, lonely tune while the bartender moved wordlessly behind the bar, cleaning glasses and stocking bottles. 

He was programed to ask her if she wanted another drink when her first one was gone, and she hadn’t been inclined to stop him from pouring out another.  

In the quiet of Sandrine’s, with the whiskey warming in her belly, the chaos of her thoughts scaled back to a manageable pace. A silent, but lethal argument played out in her mind. Her desires against her logic. Her heart against her mind. 

She threw her drink back as the pale, sunlit memories of that morning wandered across her mind. 

His mouth against her neck had woken her, and his body cradling hers had been her first recollection. She had felt safe; even if it was just for a moment, she treasured that feeling like a dragon lurking over it’s last piece of gold. It was only temporary, but it had been real. 

Then the alarm clock began blaring, reminding them of their duties. 

It was back to the bridge, this time as captain and commander. And she’d spent the rest of the day staring down at the helm console with a subdued sense of horror wrapping around her chest. 

After today, she needed this liquid courage. 

Kathryn’s lips curled around another taste of fiery whiskey. She set her empty glass down with a clank, alerting the bartender. 

“Another, madam?” 

Kathryn nodded. 

He filled the glass again, hardly noting the glassy look in her eyes. He wasn’t programed to tell her she’d had enough, and good for him, because she would have knocked him on his ass if he had. She wouldn’t take orders from a hologram. 

No, her obedience was reserved for one person. One man alone. 

Kathryn clenched her eyes shut against the winding path of her thoughts. Somehow, every road in her mind led back to him, back to being bent over the helm, back to being punished, and finally, back to having every last orgasm milked from her eagerly trembling body. 

How many times had she come last night? 

Five? Six? Seven? 

It had all begun to blur together after the third. 

Kathryn’s head jerked up when the clank of the holodeck doors unlocking alerted her that someone else was entering the program. 

Through the dense shadows and yellowed lamplight of Sandrine’s, Kathryn glimpsed his familiar figure. He glanced around the bar before locating her, and he started across the hardwood at a stride. 

She sighed, and threw back a bolstering drink of whiskey. 

“Of all the programs, I’m surprised you chose this one.” He remarked as he came to her side. 

“It’s only obnoxious when Tom has the characters running.” Kathryn replied. 

Chakotay chuckled, and pulled out the barstool next to her. 

“Care for a drink?” She asked, nudging her glass toward him. 

“No, thank you, I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Neither am I … Usually.” 

“I know … So are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you all day?” 

Kathryn cast him a sharp gaze, and scoffed. “You mean other than having to relive last night in my mind every time I looked down at the helm today?” 

He pursed his lips. If she wasn’t mistaken, she saw a smile fighting to surface. 

“If you’re amused by my discomfort, I suggest you leave.” She sneered. 

“Not amused.” He said, “I was going through the same thing, Kathryn.” 

“I’m sure you were. With pleasure.”

“Are you going to resent me for the rest of my life for it? I seem to recall that you were the one who started it … lifting up your dress.” 

“I made a simple implication.” She said, “You took it to the extreme.”

“Is that what you’re really angry about?” 

Kathryn huffed out a sigh, and ran a hand over her forehead. 

“No.” She admitted in a whisper, “You know it’s not.” 

“So what is it?” 

Kathryn drew in a steadying breath, and stared into the amber of her whiskey. Slowly, she lifted her eyes, trading the whiskey for the soft mocha of his eyes. 

“You make me … vulnerable.” She whispered, “In a way that … I can’t trust myself when I feel that way.” 

He frowned, tilting his head in a query. 

“I’m not myself when you’re … you’re doing those things to me.” She pressed on, her voice growing choked around the admission, “I feel like I’m in freefall and it terrifies me.” 

“Kathryn,” He whispered, reaching out to clasp her elbow, “There is nothing to be afraid of.”

“Aren’t you?” She asked, searching his face for commisseration, “Doesn’t this frighten you?” 

“Am I afraid of putting everything into this and having nothing left if it ends?” He asked, “Yes. Of course I am. That is the risk of any new thing. But I’m willing to go out on a limb for you.”

“Even if it breaks?” She asked, then more urgently, “Even if  _ I  _ break it?” 

“How would you do that?” 

“By trying to hold on, trying to control things.” She said, “It’s my first instinct, Chakotay. To be the strongest I can be, to never let you see me be anything but perfect.” 

“To me you are perfect.” 

He said it with such simplicity, such calm reassurance that she began to chuckle. 

“I’m serious.” He said, frowning softly. 

“I know.” She said, dragging a hand across her mouth to wipe away the smile, “I know, it’s just … I’ve tried so hard to be perfect, to be the best captain I can be to this ship and crew. I’ve spent every single day of the last five years trying to be this unattainable person. And you say it to me now after you’ve seen me at my lowest, at my weakest.” 

“That’s the real you, isn’t it?” 

She swallowed back the sting of tears, and snatched her drink for a boost of courage. She could feel his eyes on her profile as she swallowed back what was left of her third drink. 

She set the glass down with a clink, and turned to meet his gentle gaze. 

“I want this.” She said, “But I’m not sure I deserve it.” 

He began to shake his head, and she could see this argument wouldn’t last long in his capable hands. But she had to see this twisted guilt expiring in her chest to it’s bitter end. 

“You’ve already asked me to hurt you.” He said, “Physically. I can’t do it emotionally. I  _ won’t _ .” 

“So, I have no choice but to be your lover?” 

“Maybe.” He said, a smile curling the corner of his mouth, “Look, Kathryn, I believe that some things in this universe are beyond our control. Some things, we are not meant to understand in their entirety. We have freedom of will, yes, but some things - and maybe this thing that we have - is preordained. We don’t get to change the ending.” 

“I won’t let some mystical being guide my life.” She said, “If you believe this is meant to be, fine, but I started this - I have the power to end it too.” 

He looked wounded, but she reached out to touch his chest in reassurance. 

“But I won’t.” She said, “Because it’s a choice. Because as much as it scares me, being with you is the best thing I’ve had or felt in years. This is the closest I’ve come to being happy in a long time. Maybe I don’t trust it, but I trust you.” 

“That’s all I’m asking.” 

She sighed, and leaned over to nestle her face against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, and pressed a kiss to her hair. They embraced for a long moment before the bartender interrupted. 

“Another drink, madam? Your glass is empty again.” 

Kathryn lifted her head from Chakotay’s shoulder, and cast the holocharacter a glare that passed right through his photons. 

“Computer, deactivate character.” She ordered. 

The bartender disappeared into thin air, leaving them in solitude. 

Chakotay chuckled softly, and bent to capture her mouth with his. She leaned into the unexpected kiss, enjoying the taste of his mouth cutting through the numbing effect of the whiskey. 

When he pulled back, she sipped a meager breath of air. 

“What is it you want, Kathryn?” Chakotay murmured, his hand sculpting her cheek, “We’re alone, and we have the rest of the night. We could have a rematch.” He nodded toward the pool table in the center of the bar where the balls were aligned in the triangle.

Kathryn bit back a laugh, “So I can beat you again?” 

“I could bend you over it just as well.” He whispered, nuzzling against her throat. 

She sighed, turning her neck into the smattering of kisses, and clutching at the strength in his broad shoulders. 

His mouth drifted up against her earlobe and jaw before breaking off. He leaned back to look into her eyes, trapping her in the magnetic darkness in his eyes. 

“I could put my mouth on you right there.” He continued, nodding toward the table. 

Kathryn’s breath caught, vivid flashes of memory enhancing the promise. 

“I could fuck you instead …” 

She shivered as his hand dropped to her knee, squeezing momentarily before sliding up her inner thigh. She bit back a whimper, already feeling the heat rising between her legs. 

“Look at me.” He whispered. 

She opened her eyes, flushing and quaking as his gaze all but consumed her. 

“Any of them.” He said, “Just trust me to know what it is you deserve, and what you don’t.” 

She opened her mouth as if she protest, but she couldn’t find any but a whimper in her vocal chords. 

He rose, lifting her from the barstool with him. 

His mouth came down on hers, stroking love and affection and promises into her skin. As she sank into his arms, her shoulders felt light for the first time years. The burden of guilt she’d dragged from one place to the next for the past five years had lifted; not gone, no, but he was shouldering it with her now. He’d been telling her for years, but in this moment, she believed she had never truly been alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr!](http://clairehales.tumblr.com//)!


End file.
